that which makes you different
by omgerinlovesloganlerman
Summary: Her wings had come in the day she turned sixteen – no warning, no instruction manual.


Her wings had come in the day she turned sixteen – no warning, no instruction manual.

She'd gone to bed same as always, drinking a mug of green tea before changing into her softest pyjamas and slipping under the thin covers. Her dream was weird; it involved a group of Abercrombie models, a couple of swords, and satanic chickens that looked awfully like the ones in _Chicken Run_. When she woke up, covered in sweat as if she had actually been fighting poultry, her back was sore, just inside her shoulder blades.

The nausea hit soon after and she barely made it to the toilet before she was throwing up everything in her stomach. Eventually the vomiting ceased and she leant her head against the cool porcelain of the sink. Her mouth tasted disgusting and her hair _definitely_ needed a wash, so she stood up and turned on the tap, letting the shower warm up as she squeezed toothpaste onto her toothbrush.

It wasn't until she had trouble pulling her shirt over her head that she realised something was wrong. The material was caught on something – which just didn't make any sense – and it took a few minutes, but she managed to get it off with the help of some scissors. And then she noticed the feathers.

"Mother_fucker_."

* * *

It's absolutely freezing when she leaves her dorm, despite the four layers of thermal tees and jumpers she's got on. Sometimes she regrets choosing to attend a year-round boarding school, but when Leo – always one hundred degrees no matter the season – jumps on her back and shouts, "Onward, mighty steed!" she thinks it isn't so bad.

Their team is on break for the next three weeks and most of their year has gone home for the holidays. There are the precious few, however, who have either no desirable place to go or no place to go period. Leo falls under the second category; she, the first. A couple of their other friends are staying on campus as well – Percy, Jason, Annabeth. Possibly Grover, but he likes to hibernate.

She carries Leo to the cafeteria, but by then her legs are about to give out, so she drops him. Luckily the heating's on high, so she slips out of her top layers and sits on them, protecting her backside from the frosty metal chair.

As Leo charms the lunch lady into sneaking him an extra slice of chocolate cake, she rolls her shoulders back, trying to reposition her wings. The high-energy Latino boy had crushed them, and while she's glad he hadn't noticed anything strange pushing against his legs, she wishes he had given her some warning.

The wings are a bitch, really. They're ugly little things, transparent most of the time and only reaching her elbows at full span. She can't even fly – (Attempted to six months after they came in. She jumped off her second-floor balcony and focused all her energy on soaring, but hit the ground eight seconds later. It only resulted in a broken wrist and moulting for a good week and a half).

Leo returns, heavily stocked lunch tray in hand. He hands her a salad and a cookie, keeping the three squares of pizza, bag of chips, and two pieces of cake for himself. They share the Diet Coke.

* * *

Jason meets up with them a few hours later, bringing exciting news. "One of the maintenance men turned on the heated pool," he says while smiling like a child on Christmas morning. "And guess who has the keys."

He and Leo immediately sprint towards the pool house, not even bothering to grab a pair of swim trunks from their shared dorm. She, on the other hand, turns around and strolls back to the student housing. Though swimming is a good way to stretch out her wings, she can't do it in her clothes.

She passes Leo on the way back. He's dripping wet and shivering, so she does what any good friend would do – throw a snowball at him. He flips her the bird and continues half-running, half-limping across the courtyard. When she opens the door to the pool house, it's empty and she assumes Jason already left as well.

Taking off her shirt (much more efficiently than the first time), she strips down to the black bikini that allows her wings to spread out completely. She slips into the water, throwing her head back in pleasure almost instantly. If there's one thing that feels better than stretching her wings, it's stretching them in water – especially warm water in the wintertime. The frigid temperatures had stiffened them up, making them tight and uncomfortable, but the ninety degree heat surrounding her in every direction is soothing beyond belief.

She floats on her back for a few minutes, eyes closed. Her middle finger swirls through the water, creating little ripples that continue on until they reach the concrete wall.

"What the_ fuck_ are those?"

Caught off guard, she lets out a scream and plunges underwater, as if hiding from whoever saw her will make them forget. Unfortunately, she's half-bird, not half-fish and has to come up for air sometime. When she does, she sees Jason standing at the edge of the pool with an incredulous look on his face.

She cautiously swims over to him, making sure to keep only her head above the water the entire time. As she reaches the side, his eyes soften and he sits down in front of her – a much less intimidating stance. She must've looked piss-shit terrified.

"I'm not crazy, am I?" His eyebrows crinkle up and he runs a hand through his damp hair. "I actually saw what I think I saw?"

She knows there's no use lying to him – he's sceptical enough to be unable to blow it off as a hallucination and he'll be suspicious from here-on-out. There's obviously something special about _him_, as well. She'd never met anyone who could see her wings; at most, all anyone noticed was a slight discoloration behind her, which she played off as a trick of the sunlight. It makes the most sense to say it straight out.

"Yes."

His eyes widen and he seems more confused than before, if that's possible.

"So, like… I mean – How?" Now he just looks flabbergasted.

She snorts. "Hell if I know. Just woke up with them one morning. They don't do much – they don't do anything really. Kinda just… there."

He nods as if he understands.

* * *

Jason doesn't treat her differently after that, but he gives her strange glances from time to time – probably when he's able to see them and doesn't know what else to do.

On Christmas Eve, the seven of them still at school – (She, Jason, Leo, Percy, Annabeth, Rachel, and Grover) – get together in the lounge where there's a pine tree and a microwave to heat up instant hot cocoa. She volunteers to become barista for the evening, knowing that no one else will come around the corner and into the little kitchen. It gives her a chance to stretch out.

The third batch of cocoa is in the microwave when she slips off her cardigan and ruffles her feathers. Suddenly, Leo appears and ninja hugs her from behind.

"Alright then, Pipes? Got any hot chocolate ready?"

She tenses up, squeezing her eyes shut and praying to anything out there that Leo doesn't touch her wings. Though he can't see them, he can definitely feel them – and especially when they're spread out like this.

"Woah there. You're completely knotted. Here, lemme help."

He moves his fingers to the back of her neck and her shoulders, rubbing the strain away. For a moment she thinks she'll be okay, but then his wrist brushes against some of her feathers and he scrambles backwards.

"Fucking shit!" He yells, and she rushes forward, covering his mouth with her hand. It muffles the rest of his stream of curses and she hopes no one in the other room heard. She slowly removes her palm, allowing him to speak, but still stays on alert in case his volume goes overboard again.

"_What _was that?"

She doesn't say anything, so Leo reaches his hand out and tenderly runs his fingers from where her wing meets her skin all the way to the tip. A shiver surges down her spine and she stumbles forward, her forehead resting against his chest. Leaning back slightly, she watches as he continues stroking the feathers, mystified by something he can't see.

"Leo," she whispers, before she presses her lips to his. His hands go to her hips straightaway and her wings, as if they have a mind of their own – which sometimes she thinks they do – wrap around the two of them, creating a curtain of sorts.

He pulls back and rests his forehead against hers, breathing heavily and stroking the feathers again. "I wish – I just –"

She shushes him and whispers, "I know."

* * *

Term starts up again and Jason smirks at her when she leaves in the middle of class, knowing her wings are too cramped and she needs to stretch them out in the bathroom. Leo keeps two feathers in a glass jar on his bedside table – they came off her left wing during a particularly _physical_ make out session that ended in him mumbling _I'm sorry, I'm sorry_ against her neck for a good ten minutes.

The thing is, when her wings first came in, she expected them to mean something. After she got over the initial shock and decided _no, she wasn't acid tripping_, she spent hours every day for a week searching the internet and the library, hoping to come across some sort of explanation. None of the lore matched up with her reality and she decided to just wait it out – let whatever magical experience that was bound to happen occur in its own time.

It never did.

She went to school and made new friends. Even when two of those friends found out about her secret, nothing much changed – all she got was a boyfriend who sometimes treated her as if she was made of glass.

There were no poetic metaphors, no lifelong lessons. She had wings and that was that.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm in a melancholic mood and decided that an ending like that was fitting – sometimes there just isn't a purpose

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Characters belong to RSquared, and name brands belong to whoever they belong to

* * *

**Note:** This was inspired by my complete and utter adoration for the angel wings on Supernatural

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**Important Message:** Today is voting day, and though I'm too young to do so, I hope anyone over the age of eighteen goes out and votes. You have a voice – so use it.

Also, I've been seeing many people take pictures of their ballots and post them to Instagram, Twitter, etc. This completely nullifies your vote and it _does not count_. If you haven't voted yet, please refrain from capturing the moment with your iPhone5. If you must document the occasion, take a picture of that cute little sticker they give you.


End file.
